Lost ’n’ Found in Alpha Zulu
by planet p
Summary: AU; a younger Charles meets someone on the road going home.
1. Chapter 1

**Lost 'n' Found in Alpha Zulu** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

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_1954_

Hot winds spiral across paddocks of nothing; he tries to force away the image of the dead foxes, hung up on display in the tree, long dead itself. His eyes burn; his throat, too. He throws up.

He doesn't hear the vehicle come up and the hand on his shoulder is like an electrical shock. "Are you okay?" a voice asks. A young man, he decides.

He doesn't need to look to know; the young man is touching him, though there is material in between; he's _so_ close.

He wants to say _no_, his own hands are shaking uncontrollably. Instead, he looks back over his shoulder at the vehicle. It's a military vehicle, he knows this without thinking on it any longer; he feels a stab of fear in his chest, not frozen like ice, but hot like fire and fury.

He wants to run; he can't. He feels like falling down and just lying on the ground. He sees the foxes' eyes in his mind. He vomits again; his throat burns and throbs. He chokes.

For a moment, he wants it all to be some crazy dream. He wants to go back, to take back everything and just go back. He doesn't care about the pain, he can't even bring himself to care about what he knows he'd be forced to do if he ever went back, just like every other time; like Anora.

He falls on the ground, on his knees. The ground is hot, but he's so tired, and _so_ hungry. He cries. He remembers the foxes: the horror of seeing them there like that, and then the hunger. He remembers running, not even looking back. His tears burn, mixed with dust and dirt from the road and the bare paddocks. His eyes clog up with muck; the grit stings. He cries harder.

He wishes he could take it back, go back; bring Anora back.

The young man is pulling on him, trying to get him to stand. There's help back where he's from, he's saying, it can't be far now, they're almost there. The young man is stronger than he first appears, because he pulls him to his feet, and the two of them stumble towards the vehicle.

Nearer to the vehicle, his panic rises again and he throws up. He can't go in the car, he just _can't_. He falls against the young man and they fall heavily against the side of the car; he cries.

He just wants to take it back, to try harder the next time – is that so difficult a thing to ask? "_Please, Anora_," he begs. "_Please, I'll try harder! Give me another chance – just _one_ chance!_" But, listening to them back, he can't make out his own words: they are in another language. Sickness overwhelms him, powerful and strong; but before he can succumb to it, unconsciousness finds him first. He collapses to the ground and the young man isn't quick enough to stop it happening; he doesn't even feel it.

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**There's nothing under Major Charles's name in the Character List; I thought I'd write something. It's AU; Charles is the young man; the central character is William. (As I said, AU.) In this fan fiction, William's 15; I don't know how old Charles is.**

**The 'Alpha Zulu' in the title refers to the abbreviation of Arizona, AZ. (I was kinda stuck for a title.)**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Charlie Russell."

He blinked and sat up; it was difficult, he guessed he was lying in a bed. His eyes burned. He fixed his eyes on the young man, Charlie. If Charlie was here… everything was fine, he told himself. They hadn't found him; he was free.

Charlie offered his hand; it seemed so far away though it wasn't really far at all. "Now's the part where you tell me your name," he prompted humorously, his youthfulness evident in the laughter in his voice.

His voice was raspy and his throat hurt when he talked, "William. Raines." He remembered two of the signs he'd passed; street signs, he supposed.

Charlie clasped his hand and gave it a hearty shake. "You'll be right, William," he said jovially. His hand was warm.

William forced himself to remain still; to 'shake' the young man's hand without getting any ideas. Apart some bruising, he was healthy. "Where am I?" he asked.

Charlie gave the name of some sort of base; a military base, if the vehicle he'd come in in had been anything to go on.

"Are you a soldier?" he asked, racking his memory for the right word.

"I fly," Charlie told him with that same enthusiasm. "You're at an Air Force base; that's the Army you're thinking of."

William coughed. He didn't know what the difference was. He decided it'd be best not to voice this, however. His eyes started to close; he sat up straighter. He noticed, suddenly, that he wasn't wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing when he'd stumbled across the young man. "Where are my things?" he asked.

"Mucky! Mucky as heck! We'll have them cleaned and return them to you, good as new. You'll see; not to worry." He leaned over, still smiling.

William fought back a mounting feeling of claustrophobia. He tried to concentrate his thoughts in the present. Anora had had a daughter, he recalled suddenly, a little girl. He couldn't remember her name; his voice blurred to blackness, then back again. He tried to think harder, at last coming up with a name: Regina, Anora's middle name.

"JKD-762," Charlie read off the set of letters and digits tattooed into inside of the teenager's left arm, just below the elbow joint, in a slightly questioning tone.

_The young woman's smile scared him. He didn't know what it meant, but it scared him. Kneeling down before the little boy, she held out a hand. "My name is Anora Loring." She awaited his reply, her kind smile never faltering._

Tears flowed down his face; for a moment, Charlie fought not to gape. William didn't see any of this. He only saw Anora, smiling; he only saw the blood; it covered them both. It was there now!

He threw up.

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"Whew!" With a heavy sigh, Charlie turned to his younger sister, Edie. Frankly, he was glad to be out of that room. William might have seemed like a harmless sort of fella, but he had issues alright. He held out his arm; Edie took it unfalteringly, waiting for him to speak, to explain this latest mystery.

She'd always liked a good mystery.

"Well, dang me, I can't say I'm at all sure about some of the rumours that have been going around. I'd say, to be safe, I'd have to decline comment at this stage."

"How old do you think he is?" Edie asked him.

Edie's age, about that. "Sixteen?" he replied. "Likes. About that mark."

"Hardly old enough to marry, then?"

Charlie nodded. Sure, the kid had come in with some pretty funny clothes, but that didn't attest to much. Maybe he'd been with one of those tour groups, the sort rich types took; he had the English accent for it. Charlie was betting he was a tourist, that was all. "You know what," he said to the younger girl, "I'll bet he's nothing more than a tourist who wandered away from his group and ended up lost; those city slickers have no idea what it's really like out here. It can be damned tough. I reckon we're lucky we've not got a corpse on our hands. He was in pretty bad shape there for a while, and I can't say as he's fairing much better now, if I'm to speak in honesty."

Edie smiled. "He'll pull through, you'll see," she assured him.

Charlie glanced at her quickly. "How do you figure?"

"By the sounds of him," she told him, "he's in with a good chance."

Their pace didn't slow; arm in arm, they kept walking.

Well, what would be the harm of a little optimism? Charlie thought. Nothing at all! If he was to think on it, he'd have to say he felt cheerier already. He grinned. Yeah, the kid'd be okay. Nothing to worry about, at all!


End file.
